Hard to believe that November is almost over…this month flew by! We’re already at the last Wednesday of the month and that means it’s time for WHAT TO READ WEDNESDAY!!! As you know, there are times I like to shake things up and today is one of those “shaker” days. Instead of interviewing my guest today, I’m turning the floor over to her.
Please help me in welcoming CRIMSON ROMANCE author Nora Snowden. She’s sharing a wonderful post about ALL OR NOTHING and I think most of us can easily relate to some of the examples she’s given. Nora is also going to share a blurb and excerpt from her paranormal book ARSONISTS ANONYMOUS.
All or Nothing, it’s not my fault
I’ve always been an all or nothing kind of girl. I know people say moderation is the key to good health but it’s not a concept I can relate to. If I have a bucket of Rollo Ice Cream I can eat a reasonable sized serving and put the bucket back for later. The trouble is later that night there’s a good chance I’ll keep going back into the freezer for small bites until the damn bucket’s finished. Once ice cream sneaks past my doorway, it’s as good as gone. I also can’t stop at just one computer game; Solitaire and Bejeweled can render me practically comatose in a chair for hours. I’m the same with reading. I’ll start a book to see if I like it and then nine hours later my eyes hurt, my back aches and I know I’m going to feel like crap for not getting to bed until 4:30AM. But I just can’t stop in the middle of the book and put it away for another day. Or if I do, it’s probably not going to be a book I’ll rave about any time soon.
You’d think by my age (none of your business how old I am) I’d know better. But it’s really not my fault. It turns out I have an addiction predilection. Or maybe I’m obsessive/compulsive. I don’t care which label you use, as long as I can blame something other than my laziness and lack of self-discipline. That’s one of the nice things about this day and age; we’re not responsible for our own actions. (or in this case, inactions) Most character flaws can be blamed on something or someone else. In writing we perhaps overuse this concept. If I read (or write) one more story where the heroine can’t fall in love because she was cheated on by the last lover, I might go ballistic. Although it won’t be my fault. It’s because I was weaned too early/too late and was forced to eat Puffed Wheat as an impressionable child.
So although I believe moderation in life is a great concept, I just can’t practice it. I’ll have to leave that to the people with different fatal flaws—like the ones who are driven to succeed. Unfortunately that drive was squelched in me by my older brothers mocking my football throwing ability. So sad. I coulda been a contender, Ma, but it’s just not my fault.
Nora Snowdon’s current book is Arsonists Anonymous, available now where all fine e-books are sold.
What’s a girl supposed to do when she finds herself inadvertently starting fires? Lucinda Dawson becomes a firefighter to help mitigate her guilty conscience. But she gets more than she bargained for when she signs on with the Seattle Fire Hall headed up by the ruggedly handsome Captain Josh Reynolds.
To make matters worse, she is assigned part time to work with Arson Inspector Byron Morgan. A man used to making his own rules, Byron both threatens and thrills her. But is his interest in her merely a ploy in his own game to beat out his old rival?
Lu must fight more than fires in her struggle to keep her secret safe and her heart secure.
The monster SUV behind her was riding her butt. Lu‘s tattered nerves frayed even more as she concentrated on the curving highway ahead. The VW Beetle beside her sped up and her tailgater zipped behind it and cruised on by. The red-faced, balding driver shot her a disgusted look and swerved in front of her only to stomp on his brakes. She jammed on her own, barely controlling her sliding tires. His chubby hand shot out the driver‘s side window with his middle finger prominently displayed before he gunned his gas and sped away in a gray cloud.
Lu almost didn‘t recognize the symptoms. It had been a while. The warm tingle at the base of her skull should‘ve been her first clue. Then the headache building. But the taste of ashes and smoke inside her mouth left no room for doubt.
She‘d better catch up to that asshole. It would probably take about three minutes before he‘d notice. Her ‘89 Chevy shook as she pushed it above its normal cruising speed. She scanned the cars ahead trying to glimpse the massive SUV. Good. It was stuck behind someone else. A little more pressure to the gas and she gained some ground on him. Surely he must be noticing the flames by now.
She passed a couple of cars until she was behind him again. Smoke rose in his back window. The fire seemed limited to the last row of seats but with the amount of crap in his vehicle, she couldn‘t be sure. She blared her horn and pointed to the side of the road.
He ignored her. What the hell was wrong with the jerk? She honked again and he merely waved that oh-so-endearing finger at her.
Her car shuddered ominously and Lu realized she‘d have to slow down or she‘d have her own troubles to deal with. Hell, she‘d catch the jerk when he finally realized the problem and pulled over.
About three miles up the highway she finally saw him at the side of the highway frantically throwing things out of the back of his vehicle. She stopped a ways ahead in case his tank blew up and walked back to his car.
“Need a fire extinguisher?” She held the mini-canister up before he made some smartass remark that would make her change her mind.
“What? Yeah.” He grabbed it and sprayed the white foam into the dwindling flames in the back seat. Then he turned the extinguisher on the smoking items he‘d thrown by the side of the road. Once everything was totally enrobed in the creamy white foam, he stopped spraying and scratched his head. “What the fuck? Huh?”
Lu took the empty can from his limp hand and walked back to her car. He could call someone else if he wanted a ride to the next town. She tossed the extinguisher in the backseat so she wouldn‘t mix it up with the new ones in her trunk, hopped into the driver‘s seat and pulled away. No harm, no foul.
Nora Snowdon Bio:
Living in New York and Toronto, Nora Snowdon was a jerk of all trades—one week hawking dolls at major toy conventions, the next in a high end jewelry store pandering to the rich. She worked in the financial market, gambling dens, food service industry and sold shoes. During these years she also either appeared in or directed over twenty five plays.
Then Nora moved to the wet coast, took up health foods (dark chocolate and red wine) and became a Writer of Elegant Smut. Her ambition is to become a crazy cat lady and wine hoarder, not necessarily in that order.
You can read more about Nora at email@example.com.
Buy Arsonists Anonymous and her other books at Amazon.com